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to stand as poet or to fall on the sword of call one must decipher the script on blade ”translator” the words are reflective what say you what do you the poet poets a parrot of ways this story, this sword, drawn from the sheath
light and dark
the power went out,
you gathered candles.
I slept in the backdrop
of your photo of candles.
in the photo, as life now,
only candles. yes,
only flickers against
the dark. I sleep here.
Australia fires
Please read
gifting
What gifts we receive all the time
What beauty remains when we think only of rain
How does water shape itself
Continual re-emergence
© 2014 - 2024 silvernium
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